Specimen
by GBTiger
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy, a young private investigator, takes interest in some curious kidnapping cases. But when he comes across Arthur Kirkland, who can only be described as a 'mad scientist,' things don't go the way he would have expected... Human AU. Warnings for violence and gore.
1. Tea

Flickering street lamps lit the young French investigator's way as he hurried through a sordid alley, the vile odors of piss and garbage stinging his nostrils. Rats stared at him from between the building, red eyes gleaming maliciously. Unsure of his fate if he were to linger, he quickened his pace, exiting the alley onto an ominous, empty street. He gripped his coat tighter around his body, glancing around as he crossed the street, a particular building in mind as he made his way down the narrow sidewalk. While he had lived in New York for a few years already, he was unfamiliar with this part of the area, this filthy, grimy-

A low wolf whistle startled him from his thoughts. "Hey, baby! Lookin' good!" The Frenchman turned, and glowered at a group of young men behind him. As soon as they made eye contact with him, they backed off. "Woah, sorry, didn't know you were a dude!" they said, nearly tripping over each other as they tried to leave, clearly embarrassed. Getting mistaken for a girl wasn't uncommon for the investigator, though. He had wavy, shoulder length blonde hair that he washed and conditioned every morning, and was always wearing the most fashionable clothes. Currently, he donned a scarf, grey pea coat, and comfortable slacks; a rather androgynous outfit. But that was fine by him; there was no shame in being either a man or a woman.

He, who went by the name of Francis Bonnefoy, was a private investigator who helped solve simple cases, which ranged from finding someone's lost cat to assisting the police in solving a murder case. On this particular eerie evening, he had been hired by a young woman who had come rushing into his office, a mix of tears and mascara running down her cheeks as he begged for him to find her missing husband as soon as possible. She insisted that he had been kidnapped, though when Francis pressed her for details, she admitted that she hadn't actually witnessed him being taken away; it was just a hunch that she had when he disappeared. The story went that the woman had gone into a friend's house for a minute yesterday evening, leaving her husband in the car on the street Francis was walking on this very moment. But when she returned, the car door was wide open and the man had been missing ever since. Francis immediately took the case, intrigued after reading about kidnappings on that street before.

Francis was eager to poke around and gather any potentially useful information, going up to the first house on the street he came to. After knocking on the door and waiting, he greeted the person who answered with a cheerful smile. "Hello! Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but I don't suppose you know anything about recent kidna-"

"Fuck off," said the rude person, slamming the door on his face.

That went well.

Persistent, Francis went to the next house, again knocking and waiting patiently. Though no lights were on, the door opened slowly, and a thin man about Francis' height poked his head out. "Yes?" he murmured, sounding a bit fatigued. He looked it, too; behind his glasses, dark circles were visible under his olivine eyes. Sand colored hair that didn't match his thick, dark eyebrows was messy and looked as though it hadn't been groomed in days.

"Hello! Sorry to disturb you, I'm sure you'd much rather be sleeping at this time, but I'm Francis Bonnefoy, here to investigate the case of a man who was reportedly kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" The stranger blinked and stood up straighter. "Goodness, I heard about that… It's terrifying that it happened right here in this neighborhood. I don't know much about it, though, I'm sorry." He had a British accent, and Francis assumed he was new to New York, like him.

The Frenchman nodded. "That's all right, but if you could tell me if you've seen any suspicious activity around here, that would be marvelous."

"Please, come in," said the man suddenly, opening the door wider and turning on a light. The house wasn't very big, and stacks of papers and boxes lined the walls. "I was just going to make some tea, and if you'd join me, that would be just lovely. I'll see if I can recall anything, too."

Francis accepted, stepping inside and removing his coat. "Thank you, that's very kind of you."

"Of course, it's polite to do so." The man cleared his throat, straightened his white lab coat, and held out his hand. "My name's Arthur Kirkland. I'm sorry; I look like a mess today. I've been working for the past two days with hardly any sleep." After Francis shook his hand, he went to the kitchen, filling a kettle with water and taking out two quaint-looking teacups. "I'm a scientist… I research topics and send my theses to different organizations. It's exhausting work and doesn't pay nearly enough."

Francis took a seat on the couch in the room across from the kitchen, looking at the few photos that decorated the off-white walls. One was of a younger, brighter-looking Arthur on a college campus with a small smile. Another, taken in the same place, was Arthur and another man, with dirty blonde hair and a dazzling smile. "Who's this?" Francis asked curiously. "Is it your friend from college?"

Arthur poked his head into the room and smiled. "Ah, yes! That's my old mate from college! We graduated high school together and studied medical science in college." His smile began to fade. "Unfortunately, I dropped out of college before I could graduate. But Alfred did. He's always been smarter than me." A hint of malice entered Arthur's voice, and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly. "It wasn't fair."

Slightly alarmed by Arthur's sudden anger, Francis tried to calm him down. "Now, I'm sure you still have plenty of opportunities to return to college! You seem like a very capable young man!"

Arthur returned to the kitchen, muttering, "I can't go back to college. They won't take me back."

The silence was rather awkward for Francis as Arthur poured the tea and served it to him, then sat down in a chair opposite to the investigator, sipping his warm drink.

Francis spoke softly, "So, I don't suppose you can think of anything useful about the recent kidnappings, can you?"

Arthur looked up at him and blinked, suddenly a different person. "Oh, yes!" he said, no longer dark and angry. "What was it now… I believe I've seen a group of teenagers hanging out around the abandoned building a few blocks away. They always make me nervous when I pass by them! Perhaps they could be the culprits?"

"Perhaps," Francis agreed, sipping his own tea. It had been sweetened with sugar, but something seemed a bit off about the taste. "…What's in this?"

"The tea? Lavender, a bit of mint…"

"No, no," Francis said, sipping it again. "It's something else. There's sugar, of course, but what's that other ingredient?" He licked his lips.

Arthur cocked his head. "I'm not quite sure what you mean. It's just lavender tea and sugar."

Francis sighed. "I'm sorry. I think I might be a bit tired, too. I must be imagining it." After a few more sips, he added, "Investigating can be stressful work as well. I've stayed up all night trying to decode a secret message. Of course, that just turned out to be a love letter from one teenager to another."

The scientist chuckled. "What a disappointment that must have been. Disappointing… like knowing you'll never solve the case of the kidnappings." He stood up, setting his tea on the coffee table.

Francis blinked, trying to register what Arthur had just said. "Sorry?"

"You'll never solve it," Arthur repeated, taking Francis' teacup from his hands. "I'm sorry to do this to you. You seem like such a nice fellow." He ran his hand over Francis' cheek, eyes glowing. "But you're perfect for my experiments, see? Such a gorgeous specimen… I'll be extra careful not to damage your lovely face."

Francis stared at him, his vision starting to go fuzzy. "What are you…?" He couldn't finish his sentence, though, eyes involuntarily closing as he drifted off, seeing Arthur's smirk before passing out, and his last thought about what sort of drugs this man had put in his tea.

* * *

**Hello! It's been a while since I've posted anything new! Please enjoy this story, but please also be warned that it will be very graphic! I'm including lots of blood, violence, human experimentation death, etc. If you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing, please don't keep reading!**


	2. Bars

With a groggy mumble and a yawn, Francis sat up, wincing when he realized his shoulder was sore. He looked down, confused when he saw a metal surface and not his comfy bed. Where had he fallen asleep? He looked around, more alert already. Metal bars surrounded him… This was a cage. Had he gotten himself into a really strange one night stand? But then he remembered.

_Arthur._

"Bastard," Francis hissed under his breath, pulling himself into a more comfortable sitting position as he searched for the door to the cage. He found it, but the lock seemed to be above the cage, and when he took a bobby pin from his hair to try and pick it, he found it was just out of his reach. Damn his luck. He also noted that, strangely, the cage was covered with an off-white cloth that let in just enough light for him to tell that the moon was shining through the window, but not enough for him to see anything around the cage. After giving up trying to open the door, he lifted the bottom of the cloth through the bars, managing to see a bit of the room he was in.

Horrifically, it was filled with other cages, most covered by cloths as well, including the one next to him. He could only assume that this meant they each held someone in them. "Hello?" he whispered, hoping for a response. "Anyone?"

"Pipe down," said a voice in the cage next to him. "Arthur's gonna be back soon, and he doesn't like us talking to each other. So if you wanna be the one he takes to his lab tonight, well, keep chattering away."

Francis stared at the cage next to him. "What? What are you saying? What's he planning to do to us?"

There was a dry chuckle. "You don't know? I thought he would've told you." The voice cleared his throat to speak. "He kidnaps people, takes them here, and performs weird experiments on- Wait, shit, I hear footsteps. He's coming."

"I don't hear anything."

"Shut up."

Though Francis was sure there were no footsteps, he quieted down, leaning against the bars and waiting patiently for the person in the other cage to admit he was just imagining things. But sure enough, he heard a door creak open, and someone entered the room.

"Good evening!" said Arthur's voice brightly. "I'm in such a good mood today, maybe you'll all come out alive by tomorrow morning!"

A low animalistic growl came from the cage beside Francis. "Don't play games, you psychopath! Just get your torture over with!"

Arthur's footsteps went right past Francis' cage, and he stopped near it. "Goodness, your attitude is simply atrocious," he said in a soft, cooing voice, as if he was soothing a small pet. "We may just have to fix it someday… But not today." He chuckled. "Like I said, I'm in a good mood." He began to hum, quietly, unnervingly. Francis shuddered. "Who wants to be my subject today~?" he sang, opening a cage door on the other side of the room. This triggered a loud wailing sound from whatever Arthur had just encountered, which was immediately silenced after a loud smack of skin on skin was heard. "Hush. You don't get a say in this." And the thing, whatever it was, was dragged across the room behind Arthur.

When the door shut, the person next to Francis spoke again. "Anyways, he experiments on people in all sorts of disturbing ways."

"Why?" Francis whispered, still trying to process the sounds he had heard earlier. "What sort of madman would do this?"

"_That_ sort of madman," said the voice grimly. "He's completely insane, but he's a genius. Not only is he hiding this shit from the authorities, but he's managing to discover all sorts of things about the human body, and then he sells his work to universities. Oh, when I get my hands on him…"

Francis lifted up the cloth again, peering at the cage when the voice quieted down. "What's your name?" he asked curiously. "We didn't get to properly introduce ourselves. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, P.I."

"Alfred."

"Alfred?" Francis recalled seeing the photos on Arthur's walls. "You're the young man Arthur mentioned! You went to school with him, yes?"

Alfred laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I went to school with him, until he was kicked out of college for doing those fucking insane experiments on his fellow peers without their consent. And do you know why I'm here? I'm here because Arthur's pissed at me. He's furious, and it's all because I graduated and he didn't. He's a stubborn, jealous, sadistic son of a bitch. I don't regret declining his offer to work for him."

Francis swallowed. "But… Now you're here…"

"That's right," Alfred said, speaking with a smile but his words sharp and bitter. "It's a hell of a lot better than aiding him in cutting open living human beings. Too bad he's too much of a sadist to let me die just yet. "

"Do you want to die?" Francis asked, lowering his tone.

There was a long period of silence before Alfred replied, "Yes. I want to die as soon as possible. I don't care if it's painless or the most long, agonizing death you can imagine. I can't live like this."

Francis stared at the floor of his cage for a while. He didn't understand. How could anyone want to die? "Wouldn't you rather be free?" he murmured, staring at the cage, hoping Alfred too would lift his cloth so they could see each other face-to-face.

"No," was the sudden, harsh response that startled Francis. "I don't want to be free. I want to die. I already told you, I'm not going to live the rest of my life like this."

"Like what?" Francis pressed, his curiosity beginning to gnaw at him. "Show me why you can't…."

"No!"

Francis flinched.

Alfred sighed. "Please, don't ask about it… You don't want to see what I look like. It's awful. It'll give you nightmares."

"I've been at crime scenes, I've probably seen worse," Francis replied cautiously, not wanting to elicit Alfred's anger again. "I don't mind if you look bad."

Alfred was insistent. "No. I can't show you. Now stop asking."

Francis sighed, but fell quiet, dropping the cloth and curling up on the uncomfortable cage floor, wondering to himself what his fate would be, and silently hoping that he would make it out of here alive.

* * *

**I honestly have no idea where this story is going. If you have any ideas, please send me a PM! And remember that meaningless criticism in the reviews will be immediately deleted. Constructive criticism, on the other hand, is very helpful and thoughtful! What do you like about the story? What can be improved on? Are there any inaccuracies or typos? Thank you! **


	3. Tears

Hours passed, and Francis was unable to fall asleep. Anxiety was chewing up his insides and filling his stomach with a dreadful, heavy lump. He was terrified of what would become of him.

He had always been an imaginative person. He imagined monsters under the bed, in his closet; he imagined shadows becoming demons; he grew up writing, singing, and painting. And now, he was in the worst possible place to start imagining. He began to picture lying on a cold, white table, strapped down while Arthur smiled at him and cut up his organs. Visions of blood, intestines, cracked bone, and severed limbs flew through his mind. And his ultimate fear was there, too. The fear of dying on that imaginary table, and never returning to his home ever again became stuck in his mind. He shivered, hugging his body tightly.

"Morning!" chirped a cheerful voice suddenly, making Francis jump. "It's morning already! Wake up, everyone, it's time for breakfast!"

Alfred growled. "Fuck off, Arthur. Your food tastes like literal shit."

Arthur went over to Alfred's cage, opening the door. "Sounds like someone's cranky," he said, sounding amused. "But don't worry, that will change! I've got your medication right here!"

Francis heard the sound of scrabbling against the cage floor. "No! I'm not taking it!" Alfred shouted. "I'll bite you if you come anywhere near me!"

"You're so problematic," Arthur sighed. "Don't act like a child, Alfred. Your medicine will calm you down."

Francis, although he couldn't consider himself to be a "hero," spoke up in Alfred's defense. "Lay off of him, Arthur. He doesn't need whatever medicine you're trying to feed him." Oh, God, his heart was beating so fast. Would Arthur turn on him?

The scientist laughed and closed the door to Alfred's cage, and threw the cloth off of Francis'. "Are you volunteering to take it in his place?" he asked, holding up a container of pills as he grinned. Yes, this Arthur was very different from the one Francis had first encountered the previous evening.

He shrank back. "No… I'm just saying, he's perfectly fine, he doesn't need it."

"Francis…" Alfred said in warning. "Don't do this. Don't get involved."

Arthur laughed and opened the door to Francis' cage. "It's too late for that, my dear," he said, unscrewing the cap on the bottle and shaking a few pills into his hand. "Open wide~!"

Francis pressed his back to the other end of the cage, covering his mouth with both hands and shaking his head. He had no idea what those pills even were! What if they killed him? As he watched, terrified, Arthur crouched down and entered the cage, trying to pry Francis' hands from his face. "There, there… Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt a bit."

"It's a sedative," Alfred warned, shaking the bars on the cage and making a loud, disruptive rattling sound. "Don't let him give it to you! He'll put you to sleep and start experimenting on you!"

Arthur frowned at Alfred's cage. "What sorts of things have you been telling poor Francis? You're scaring him." He looked back at the Frenchman with a bright smile. "Don't worry, love. This will only make you very sleepy…" He gripped Francis' wrist, becoming more forceful now. "Come on…"

Francis shook his head vehemently though; too skeptical of what Arthur had in mind for him once he was asleep. And soon, the scientist's smile began to disappear, fading away like sand being blown away by the wind. "Francis," he said in a low, displeased tone. "I won't stand for disobedience. Take your medicine."

But Francis wasn't about to give in so easily, much as his legs were trembling and fearful tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

At last, Arthur gave up, backing out of the cage and closing and locking the door securely. "Too bad, that would have made your life so much easier," he sighed. "But since you're new here, and still learning, well… I'll forgive you. Alfred, on the other hand…" He scowled at Alfred's cage. "I don't think you've earned your breakfast. You can go without it today." He smacked the bars of the cage, covered up Francis' with the cloth, and left the room in a huff, the door slamming shut behind him.

"See? He's insane," Alfred growled when things were silent once more. "He's trying to sedate us so he can drag us away and do… _things_… to us."

"Why has no one contacted a mental hospital?" Francis hissed, stretching out a little and rubbing his back, which had been pressed against the back of the cage too hard. "He's batshit crazy!"

Alfred muttered, "He's been in a mental hospital, but they thought there was nothing wrong with him, so he got out easy! Son of a bitch should be locked up in prison, if you ask me! He murders people on almost a weekly basis, after kidnapping them from off the street!" He was interrupted by a long, mournful wail that echoed throughout the room, sending a shiver down Francis' spine.

"…What was that?"

"One of Arthur's sick experiments," Alfred replied bleakly. "I think it _used_ to be human."

Francis wasn't sure how to reply at first, so all he managed to get out was, "That's awful."

"Tell me about it. Hey, tell you what. You've been up all night, haven't you? Go to sleep now, and I'll wake you up if I hear Arthur coming."

Curiously, the Frenchman inquired, "How do you know he's coming so early on? And how did you know I wasn't asleep?"

Alfred's response was quiet. "I have very good ears," he murmured reluctantly. "Let's just leave it at that."

Francis had no choice but to accept that answer, and he laid down to sleep. "Well, thank you very much, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing," Alfred said, chuckling. "I appreciate you being here to talk to me. It gets kinda lonely when the only living things around you are half-animal or have their vocal chords removed or something."

The investigator didn't reply, rather disturbed by how cheerfully those words came out of Alfred's mouth. However, he did close his eyes, eventually drifting off into a light but much-needed sleep.

Upon waking, he yawned, stretched, sat up, and hit his head on the roof of the cage. "Ow…"

"You up?" Alfred asked right away. "How are you doing? Do you feel okay? Arthur hasn't been in here for a few hours, so it's been really peaceful, don't worry…"

Only able to answer one thing at a time, Francis mumbled, "I'm fine," and rubbed his head. "What time is it?" He lifted up the cloth that covered his cage, peering out the small window.

"Noon-ish, I think," replied Alfred. "Hey, maybe Arthur will bring you something to eat soon. That'd be nice, wouldn't it? He usually doesn't give you much, but hey, you take what you can get. He could starve you for days before feeding you again."

Francis looked over at Alfred's cage, appalled at the idea. "He starves his… test subjects?"

"Yeah, well, he doesn't exactly have a big income," Alfred said. "He gets us cheap food if we're behaving. Man, it's insane how many people he's killed just 'cause he wasn't feeding them."

Francis's stomach twisted itself into a knot, realizing that could happen to him. "…So if I get on his good side…?"

Alfred waited a moment to answer. "Arthur doesn't really have a 'good side.' Like I said before, he's totally insane. Even if he likes you, he might end up killing you just because. I mean, you can try, but it's not like being nice to him will guarantee your survival."

"Oh, god…" Francis whispered. "Why am I here? I want to go home… I can't die yet."

Alfred chuckled dryly. "You're too young, I know. But so is almost every other body in this room. We're all young, and upset, and probably going insane ourselves from this torture that Arthur inflicts onto us."

"I hate it here," Francis whimpered, covering his face, as if he were hiding the tears from someone. But there was no one to see him.

"Hey, are you crying?" Alfred asked, sounding suddenly concerned. "Don't cry, please… I didn't mean to scare you!"

"No…" Francis said, shaking his head and wiping his tears away. "It's not your fault. I just… really want to go home. I can't believe this is happening to me. I'm a journalist, and I make reports about kidnappings and torture and murder… But I never put myself in the victim's place. I never thought that I would be the one stuck in this kind of situation, with imminent death looming over me…"

* * *

**Hello again! Thank you for reading! I hope to write this story to the end, so stick around for more!**


	4. School

_"__Alfred! Alfred!" _

_ "__Hey!" The blond college student looked over at his friend, grinning. He stopped walking to face his peer, wanting to listen to what he had to say. _

_ "__You'll never guess what I got on the bio exam!" declared the smaller blond proudly, green eyes aglow with pride, a great smile that was larger than Alfred's on his face._

_ "__What?" Alfred was excited for his friend, who in the past was struggling with exams in their biology class. "Tell me, tell me!"_

_ "__Eighty-five!" he announced, crossing his arms. "That's way better than what you got, isn't it?"_

_ "__Arthur…?" Alfred chuckled. "I've got some, uh, bad news for you. I got a ninety-eight."_

_Just like that, Arthur's smile vanished, the sparkle in his eyes fading as well. "…Ninety-eight…" he whispered, almost as if he was in disbelief. "…Well, you were always smarter than me, weren't you?"_

_Alfred's eyes widened at his friend's distress. "Hey, Artie… Don't take it personally. What do you say I help you study next time, huh?"_

_ "__No," Arthur murmured, looking away. "No, thanks. I'll find another way to raise my grade. I'll impress the teacher, like you do every day. I'll do my work and be a good student, like you."_

_ "__Artie…" Alfred reached out to touch his shoulder. "Come on, you're doing just fine! Seriously, I can help you study if you want!"_

_Arthur declined by promptly turning and walking away, no longer speaking to Alfred._

_The next day, he showed up in class his usual bright self, sitting next to Alfred with a smile. "Hello! Nice day today, isn't it? Aren't you excited to learn new things?"_

_ "__New things?" Alfred gave him a confused look, one eyebrow raised. The young man was acting very different from yesterday. But nonetheless, he smiled and replied, "Sure."_

_Arthur took his notebook from his bag, setting it on the desk and motioning to the page he had opened it to. "Look! Last night, I started some experiments. Here are the results!" Curious, Alfred looked over at it. "See, I found a frog in my backyard, and started to do some experimentation!" Alfred noted a sketch of the frog, amazed by all of the detail that Arthur had managed to put into it. Arthur definitely should have joined an art class; his drawings were always phenomenal. But when he saw the second picture, his mouth dropped open. In this sketch, the frog's eyeballs were extracted from its skull, though remained intact thanks to a few blood vessels. He had even gone through the trouble to add the splatters of blood around the poor thing._

_ "__Amazing, isn't it?" Arthur pointed to the data he had recorded. "See how long it took for it to die of blood loss!"_

_Alfred chuckled nervously. "Arthur… Man, that's kind of creepy. Maybe you should stick to more humane experiments."_

_ "__Human experiments?" Oddly, Arthur perked up._

_ "__Humane," Alfred repeated firmly. "Was there even a point to torturing that frog?"_

_Arthur had no reply at first. He gazed down at his gruesome drawings, and answered, "I don't know. I just wanted to impress the professor…"_

_Alfred patted his friend's shoulder. "Uh, hey, Artie, it's okay. Maybe the prof can find a good use for your experiments on frogs. You never know…"_

_ "__No, what's the use?" Arthur closed his notebook, standing up suddenly. "I'm skipping the lecture today and going to the lab. That frog experiment? Completely useless. I need to find out something that people can use. See you later."_

_After Arthur left, Alfred didn't see his friend for another two weeks, not even in the dorm room. So when he walked into their room suddenly, Alfred perked up. "Arthur! Bro, where have you been?"_

_Arthur turned, gazing at Alfred. "I've been experimenting." Dark circles were clearly visible under tired green eyes. He dropped a stack of papers and notebooks on the floor, walking over to his bed and collapsing on it promptly. "…I need to get back to work soon… But first, a break…"_

_ "__Are you okay?" Alfred hurried over to him, taking off his glasses and brushing his bangs from his forehead. "Just how long have you been working without sleep?"_

_ "__Too long," Arthur mumbled in response, closing his eyes. "The experiments… Immortality…" After uttering those words, he promptly passed out, leaving Alfred in a state of confusion. _

_And, a month later, Arthur was physically dragged from the university's laboratory while he was kicking and screaming and protesting. "Stop! You don't understand! I'm so close! I'm so close to finding the key! The secret to immortality! Can't you hear me, you fools?"_

_Those who were taking him away didn't listen to Arthur's mad shouts. Eventually, he was sentenced to a stay in the asylum after murdering two university students for his "studies" on immortality. _

_One night, a few years later, Alfred lay on his bed in his comfortable apartment, about to go to sleep, until he was interrupted by a knock at his door._

_ "__Arthur?" Alfred stared at the all-too-familiar person standing at his front door. "What…? Why? I thought you were in the asylum!"_

_Arthur smiled. He was dressed in a white lab coat over casual clothes. Pushing up his glasses, he said softly, "I'm not insane, Alfred. They let me out, because they saw that there was nothing wrong with me. Don't be afraid…"_

_Not convinced, Alfred stepped back. "Dude, no. I know what you did to the students at the school. You got two of them killed, and scarred several others for life after using them as… as guinea pigs… for your sick experiments. Fuck off, okay? I don't know how you found my house, but you need to fuck off right now, or I'm calling the police."_

_ "__Oh, Alfred," Arthur purred, entering his former friend's home. "Alfred, Alfred, Alfred… My dear roommate… You were always the smart one. You got better grades. You got on the professor's good side. You graduated college." He chuckled softly. "I didn't. But who was the one doing the good research to benefit all of mankind? Who stayed up for weeks and weeks trying to find out how to make humans immortal? It was me, Alfred. Me!" Suddenly, his voice turned vicious, and he grabbed Alfred's bathrobe, yanking him forward. Despite his thin frame, he was surprisingly strong, especially so when Alfred was caught off-guard. "You didn't deserve any of the recognition that you got!"_

_ "__Let go!" Alfred said, not having the heart to shove Arthur off. He was always smaller and weaker. "Artie, I'm gonna call the police on you if you don't leave!" _

_Arthur's eyes gleamed, and he reached into his back pocket with one hand. "Be quiet, pig," he said, stabbing the syringe he was holding deep into Alfred's neck with great precision. _

_Alfred cried out in pain, shock and horror, all of those emotions swelling inside of him as some sort of liquid was injected into his bloodstream. "Arthur-" he said, before falling limp in Arthur's arms. _

_Though he struggled to hold him up, Arthur eventually managed to throw Alfred's unconscious body over his shoulder, bringing it out to his car. After securing him in the trunk, he turned off all the lights in Alfred's house, wiped his fingerprints from the doorknob, and locked and shut the front door. "Alfred," he murmured as he drove off. "I'm so jealous of you. You got the good looks and the good grades and all of the women. But now, all you have is me…"_


	5. Anesthesia

The next day, Arthur threw the cloth off of Francis' cage and opened the door, handing him a plate. "Here," he said, smiling. Francis looked at the food. It was nothing more than some cheese and a piece of meat, but as hungry as he was, Francis accepted the meal, scarfing it down quickly. Arthur took away the plate, closing and locking the cage door when he was done. "Good boy. You have to stay healthy if you're to become a good test subject." He then picked up something that looked like a hamster's water bottle, attaching it to the bars of the cage. "You need water, too," he said, and covered his cage again.

"…Wait," Francis said. "What are you planning to do to me?"

Arthur laughed, sending a shiver down Francis' spine, though his answer frightened him more. "I don't know! Maybe I'll decapitate you and attach your head to another guinea pig's body. Hm… That's not a bad idea, to be honest…" He walked off quietly, deep in thought.

"Great," said Alfred when he was gone. "Just great. Now he's gonna end up killing another dozen people trying to play God again."

"I'm sorry," Francis apologized, turning his head towards the comforting sound of Alfred's voice. It was the only solace he had in this despairing place. "I didn't know I'd be giving him any ideas."

"Nah, it's not your fault." Alfred shifted in his cage. "He does this sort of thing all the time. I think he forgets his main purpose for researching these twisted things." He sighed and leaned against the bars, allowing Francis to see his silhouette when he lifted his cloth. "I've gotten used to being here, being tortured, being used as Arthur's plaything, but… Talking to you has made me realize how much I miss being around normal people. Normal people like you, with so much curiosity and something to live for. I forgot what that was like."

Francis gazed at Alfred's form. He appeared to be hunched over, his knees pulled to his chest. "Don't you… Don't you have something to live for?"

Alfred scoffed, "I don't have jack shit, save for a medical degree. I was never real close to my family, and I couldn't get myself a girlfriend after I graduated from college. And now, well, and now that this happened, I honestly plan to kill myself if I escape."

"That's awful," Francis stated. He knew it sounded insensitive, but he didn't care. "That's a terrible thing to think. Somewhere, your soul mate could be waiting for you, your dream job, your future-"

"My future?" Alfred turned, and it looked almost as if he was staring at Francis through the cloth. He laughed unpleasantly. "I don't have a fucking future! There's nothing in this world left for me!"

Francis shook his head. "No, no… Things can change, they won't be like they are now."

"Sure." Alfred's shadow disappeared, showing he moved to the other end of his cage. "Sure, there's a great future for me, isn't there? I'm gonna escape and find myself a husba- wife, and then have lots of kids and live happily ever after."

"Why wouldn't you?" Francis asked softly, silently questioning why Alfred would be hiding his preference for men but saying nothing about it.

"Because…" Alfred's sarcastic tone was gone now. "…I'm not normal anymore."

"Normal?" Francis pressed, too curious to leave him alone.

"Normal," Alfred repeated firmly. "Normal is something that I'm not, okay? It's all Arthur's fault!"

As he spoke, the door to the room opened quietly and Arthur walked in. His footsteps echoed throughout the now completely silent room, while suspense hung in the air like a thick fog.

"What's my fault?" Arthur asked in an eerily soft, silky voice. He walked past Francis' cage and right up to Alfred's, and as Francis moved to the opposite end of his cage to be as far from Arthur as possible, the cloth was taken from Alfred's cage. "Alfred, aren't you going to speak to me? Or are you mute now, too?"

"Cram it," Alfred spat. The sound of the cage door being opened reached Francis' ears, and the captive man hissed out, "Keep your blood-stained hands to yourself, you bastard!" The sound of a scuffle was heard, then a pained shout from Alfred; Francis was too scared to look at what was going on, though. He heard a strangled cry of "Fuck you!" and then a thump, and the sound of something, a body; being dragged across the floor was heard.

"Alfred?" Francis whispered.

"He's unconscious," Arthur called out to him, dropping Alfred and lifting up the cloth over Francis' cage to peer at the cowering Frenchman. "What is it? Were you two becoming good friends while I was away?" He pursed his lips together, eyes alight with amusement. "Do you care about him? Aw… That's too bad for you." He chuckled. "Because he's mine… You can't have him."

Francis glared at Arthur. "Don't hurt him," was all that came out of his mouth.

Arthur dropped the cloth and went back over to Alfred, proceeding to drag him to the door. "Don't worry about Alfred, love… I'm just going to teach him a lesson; because I've told him several times that he needs to keep to himself. After all, he might just end up telling you too much information…" He took Alfred's body from the room, leaving Francis alone in the eerie silence.

Hours and hours passed, and Francis was deeply concerned for Alfred. After all, he was his only friend, the only person he could talk to… He was starting to feel nauseous with anxiety and fear and the feeling of hopelessness, that he may never escape this awful place. Lonely and distressed, he curled up into a ball on the cold, hard cage floor, but unable to sleep, was left in solitude, thoughts overwhelming him.

* * *

"Son of a…" Alfred growled out, hearing Arthur's footsteps echoing in the nearly silent room while machines softly hummed around them. The blond struggled against the metal restraints that bound his wrists to Arthur's once clean operating table which now reeked of blood. He knew that there was no way in hell that he would be able to break free, but he could at least try, right? "Let me go," he demanded sharply, turning his head to follow Arthur's movements.

Arthur chuckled, an ominous tone hiding behind his laugh. "Dearest Alfred, please calm down. If you keep talking and fighting, this surgery won't go too well." The shrill sound of a knife being sharpened followed his words, the noise screaming in Alfred's sensitive ears.

He grunted. "What are you going to do this time, you bastard?"

"Why don't you wait and _see?_" Arthur chuckled, placing emphasis on the last word while walking over calmly to Alfred's side, lightly, teasingly drawing the blade of his lancet over his captive's cheeks, near his eye sockets. "Oh, wait… You can't."

Alfred gritted his teeth, furious and wanting to rip Arthur to shreds. "Fuck you, you psycho!"

"Aw, what's wrong?" Arthur cooed, withdrawing the blade and kissing Alfred's forehead. "Do you miss your precious eyes? Don't worry; I'm taking very good care of them. They're sitting in a jar over on that counter. They're a lovely shade of blue. I was so jealous of your eyes, Alfred…"

Alfred shuddered, both at the kiss and Arthur's words, each of them triggering the dreadful event in which this madman had extracted his eyeballs, removing them in the most agonizing way possible without the use of painkiller or anesthesia, saying that Alfred had "seen too much already." Of course, his sense of smell and hearing had heightened considerably, but his eyesight could never be returned, and his face had become hideously scarred from the incident.

With a growl, Alfred balled his hands into tight fists. "I don't care what you think about my eyes, or what you did with them! Now tell me what the fuck you're going to do to me!"

"You're too impatient," Arthur said, clicking his tongue. "And you're obnoxiously loud. Please use your inside voice."

"Shut up," Alfred snapped, and Arthur pressed his knife to Alfred's cheek again, effectively silencing him.

"Alfred, Alfred…" Arthur sighed, hoisting himself up onto the table and sitting there, stroking his victim's blonde hair, which had become greasy and tangled. "Whatever shall I do with you? You're always yelling at me, you refuse to do as you're told…"

Alfred repressed a shiver. "Because you're a psychotic bastard."

The blade pressed against his skin, threatening to break it. "And you insult me every day. I can't stand it."

"Then kill me," Alfred challenged, wincing when a small cut formed on his cheek. "I have no value to you! You have plenty more patients to do your sick experiments on! You don't need me!"

Arthur leaned down, licking the blood from the small wound. "I do need you," he murmured. "I need you, Alfred."

"Get off," ordered Alfred, disgusted.

"Hush," Arthur replied, but did leave the table, opening some drawers and taking something out. The mask that was used for anesthesia was pressed to Alfred's face, covering his nose and mouth. "It's time to start your surgery, love. Take deep breaths now… Yes, like that. Good boy, good boy…"


End file.
